


All of Me

by xspica



Series: A study In Songs [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 00:16:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1760513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xspica/pseuds/xspica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there was only one thing Tom knew, it was that Molly’s heart was never his to begin with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All of Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mingsmommy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mingsmommy/gifts), [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Okay, I think we are done with this now. 
> 
> I thank the lovely readers who helped me through the previous parts of the story and this is a really lousy Tom's POV that made me feel like crying as I was writing it. It's not as good as the original idea that I had, which was to really write it in a narrative way and stuff like that.
> 
> But I couldn't get into it.
> 
> So this have to do ! 
> 
> Ps. I do think that Anthea and Tom would make a good pair.

_`Cause all of me loves all of you,_

_Love your curves and all your edges,_

_All your perfect imperfections_

_-“All Of Me” John Legend_

 

* * *

 

If there was only one thing Tom knew, it was that Molly’s heart was never his to begin with.

 

* * *

 

 

_8 January 2014_

I met a girl today. She’s special, I know it because the moment I laid my eyes on her, every single cell in my body was screaming “It’s her!”

This is hardly rational thinking, but I suppose that love and attraction are hardly meant to be rational. She’s not stunningly beautiful, but she is beautiful, that shouldn’t be argued at all. She’s beautiful.

If I have to say anything, it is that, she sits just right in my heart.

I don’t believe in love at first sight, it’s ridiculous. But I suppose that … maybe it really exists. I asked her out for lunch and she accepted the invitation. This could be the start of something.

* * *

 

_25 January 2014_

I didn’t think I would fall this hard, or fall this fast.

It started with a lunch, followed by more lunches. It started with a dinner, followed by more dinners. Before I had known, I wanted to spend more time with her, share everything with her, have her share her days with me.

My heart leaps a little when I see her, it’s so comfortable being with her, like it is how things are meant to be. I think I am really really in love.

And so, I confessed. I have to admit that it didn’t go well. I may have more than just surprised her, maybe shocked her. I really hope that I can be her special someone but she told me that she’s not ready for any of the feelings I am ready to give her. She thinks that it’s sudden and I know that it is.

But it is very hard to explain to someone who doesn’t know how I feel exactly how I feel. It is sudden but how do you go slow when you meet the right one and she’s just right in front of you? You could stretch out your arm and touch her, she’s right there.

Obviously, the right one can appear at the wrong time.

And I hope that I am not the wrong one who had appeared at the wrong time.

She told me that she ended a relationship and she is drowning in them. I wish that I could be her float but I respect her wishes that she have no wishes to drown me with them as well. I know that even if she won’t be able to love me the way she loved the other, I want to shower her with all the love that I am capable of.

Because she deserves it more than she thinks she does.

I want to be the more loving one, if it would make her happy.

In the end, she left. But I am still willing to be her friend, to be just her friend. Let her think it through, let her sort through her feelings, let her decide if I can be anything more. No matter what, she’s a friend worth keeping and loving, even if it had to be platonically.

I am actually a little curious about the other guy.

How is he like? How long were they together? Will I ever be as good as him? Will I ever be enough for her? I am jealous of the man. I really am. He had a chance with her that I would never get, and he broke her heart.

* * *

 

_26 January 2014 7pm_

I feel like kicking myself. I told myself to give her time and yet I couldn’t resist sending her a text message to tell her that I would be there for her whenever she needs me. Seriously Tom, this is **not** the way you should be behaving.

You said to give her space, so give her !

Ughhh. I can be an idiot and now she is not replying. Yes, now people would finally know how desperate you are.

Sigh.

* * *

 

 

_26 January 2014 11.47pm_

_“I’m here with you.”_

That’s her message to me. I cannot stop grinning now, I might have facial cramps soon but I think I understood her message. This is her giving me a chance is it? Yes right? I cannot stop the hope from ballooning in my chest, just like how I can’t stop myself from smiling even though my face is really aching right now.

I feel as if fireworks are exploding in my chest and I really want to go out there and tell the world that she is giving me a chance but it’s 11.47pm now and I don’t think it would be well-appreciated by my neighours so I am just going to hide under my duvet and laugh to sleep.

I know she’s not over him and might never be over him but I have gotten myself a chance and she’s willing to make a leap of faith for me.

I will make things right this time. We’ll be okay.

* * *

 

 

_14 February 2014_

I may have committed murder.

Murder of Molly’s heart. That’s her name. I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned her name on this blog. I was at her place today and she had a lovely cat, Toby. I am the most foolish man in the world ever. I found a carefully wrapped present behind the armchair and I should have known by the Christmas wrapping paper that it’s something left over from _the horrible event._ And I should have left it alone, left it to rot behind the armchair.

But no.

Being the slow idiot I was, I took it out and asked her what it is.

I’ve known it from the moment she tensed up, the moment her face paled, the moment her eyes were starting to water up slightly. I knew it and I hate myself for being so oblivious. ‘Shit’ is an understatement of how shitty I felt at that moment.

Have you seen a star dying out?

I have, I saw the stars in her eyes dimmed out, died out when her eyes fell on the present. What a way to ruin her Valentine’s day.

She did came back after putting that _dreaded thing_ away. She looked normal and she cuddled next to me. She was so normal, but if anyone saw the face she made when she closed her eyes with her hand on my heart, you would know that it was just a façade.

I leaned down to kiss her cheek, she smiled.

But she should have seen her own quivering lips and the tears that threatened to flow from her eyes. I don’t know how I should feel about it. Heartbreak? Yes, but it was more for her than for me.

I am questioning myself right now, whether I am even enough to make her happy.

She doesn’t know how much it pains me to watch her struggle and I hope my affections would help soothe her wounds. I think I might have tears stinging in my eyes as I watched her.

* * *

 

 

_26 April 2014_

You cannot be more of an idiot than you already are, I suppose.

Because I proposed to Molly today while knowing that she is not over him. I am a jerk really. A selfish one. You should have seen her smile when she saw the lilies I got for her, and you should have seen the way her smile fell apart when she saw the ring.

Or rather, you should have seen how fast she backed away from me, as if I was a predator waiting to eat her up.

And maybe that analogy is right. Maybe in her mind, that’s what I am.

I promised to give her time and then I went and propose to her. She did put her hand in mine, but she didn’t look happy. At all. She looked as if she was heading to the gallows. Is marrying someone other than him … a fate worse than death?

I don’t know. I am starting to fear that I am wrong and that the only way she could ever get the happiness she deserves, would be to be as far away from me as possible. I am a selfish jerk who doesn’t deserve any consolation if I get my heart broken. This much is true.

* * *

 

 

30 March 2014

Molly and I went to visit the famous Sherlock Holmes which I have heard many stories about from Molly. It’s the first time I have ever seen him in person, he’s kind of like a celebrity and Molly thinks that it’s better that I don’t get too near to him because he would dissect me left and right in a heartbeat, baring my bones to the world.

The meeting went ….

Bad.

I now know who the secret guy is.

He’s Sherlock Holmes’s brother. And he must be really something. Everyone don’t seem to believe that she was in a relationship with him. I felt a little offended on Molly’s behalf. I don’t know who he is, how he looks, but he is an idiot for letting Molly go and if it’s anyone who is not worthy, it’s him.

Molly is spectacular. How could people fail to see that?

She got deduced to the bones by Sherlock Holmes and bare her wound to the entire world to see. At least he had the decency to look ashamed when Molly finally erupted and told everyone in the room that she’s not getting married to him.

She did introduce me to the rest in the end as she interlaced her fingers with mine. But did she know her fingers were trembling, her skin was cold? I could hear her sigh of relief when Sherlock Holmes’ gaze shifted away from me, I could see her face crumpling after Sherlock Holmes left.

Molly … is very silly.

She thinks that I can’t see her.

But I can.

I am making things worse for her, am I?

* * *

 

 

_10 August 2014_

We went for the gown fitting.

She looked stunning, and she would be even more gorgeous if she had smiled. She didn’t. She looked mostly … out of the situation, day dreaming, lost in her thoughts, or when she was truly in the situation, she looked like she was dying.

It’s like watching a beautiful sunflower wilt in your hand.

I wished that I could make it better. I thought I could make it better. But it appears that … I didn’t.

Molly dear, do you know how much it pains me to watch you avoid my gaze, watch you force a smile, hear the strains in your voice as you tell me how happy you are? Do you know how when I pulled you into my arms and rested my head on your shoulder with my arms tightly around your waist, all I really want to do was cry?

I understand and I cannot wait to get married, only if you are able to envision a future with me where you are actually happy.

It appears that I am not capable of bringing you happiness and I think … I am giving up.

* * *

 

 

_21 September 2014_

I broke off the engagement.

And I am happy that I did it, even if my heart is bleeding, even if it felt like I have ripped out my own heart.

I think she had enough of pretending, of forcing herself. I don’t think I can watch her die further, watch her suffer further. So I am calling an end to this. I asked her why did she agree to marry me.

She told me that because I am a good man.

I didn’t reply, but I wished that I could tell her that I am probably a horrible man who had forced her into this.

It’s not the reply I wanted. So I waited.

She told me because I deserve happiness. At that moment, I really wanted to hug her tightly, kiss all her pain, all her tears away. But I didn’t. She was crying.

If her answer had been, because she wants to give us a shot, because she thinks that she could live a life with me, anything actually. But none of it was her answer.

It’s like a silly mistake that she is forcing herself to go through it.

Did her answers wound me? Yes.

But I probably damaged her more than healed her. So I let her go. I only need one more answer. She said, too little.

Too little to save her.

Too little to even matter.

Too little.

So I removed the ring from her finger, removed the weight off her shoulder. She thanked me, but she shouldn’t. Because she didn’t have to go through all this if I hadn’t been stubborn in the first place.

And as I removed the ring from her finger, I heard my own heart shatter into a million pieces. The thing about heart breaks is that, they break so silently, yet so loudly. The sound of breaking glasses reverberated through my entire body, it’s so loud, so painful. But to the world, nothing happened right then.

I can be quite a poet. 

* * *

 

 

_30 September 2014_

I find myself back at 221B Baker Street, in the home of the famous Sherlock Holmes. I didn’t want to be here actually.  Like what Molly said, he would strip you bare of your skin and reveal all your thoughts, your secrets and desires with one look.

He did.

But I would prefer not to say what he did revealed.

He was a little surprised to see me actually, then I saw his eyes lit with realization when his eyes fell on my open palm. It was Molly’s engagement ring. He asked me what I wanted to see him for.

But I think he already knew.

I told him I want to meet his brother and obviously, how else am I going to meet a man that I don’t even the name of if I don’t come to him. Sherlock Holms scowled when he heard my request and I swear that it was a rather amusing thing to watch.

He was like a 5 years old kid who was told that he had to share his toys with his enemy.

It would have been funnier if I wasn’t feeling like shit.

And when his brother arrived an hour later, dressed impeccably, refined and with an annoyed frown on his face, I already know why I could never compare to him.

It’s not because he’s dressed in clothes I cannot afford or that because he is posh and rich. It was in that instant, I realized just exactly how well they fit together. It’s cliché to say this, but they fit together like puzzle pieces. They look so completely different, but if you observe closely, you will know that they are two halves of the same apple.

He looked at me and I saw fury in his face which disappeared very quickly, though when he reached out to shake my hand, I could feel him purposely tightening his grip till it hurts too much and I have to pull my hand out of his hold.

There’s nothing similar between Sherlock Holmes and his brother other than their intelligence. Other than their childish behavior that I had the honor to witness.

I know that he didn’t like me at all, because I am his rival for Molly’s love and he thought he lost. But I was the one who failed miserably, failed spectacularly.

He asked Sherlock Holmes why was I even there in 221B.

I swore that Sherlock smirked and taunted him. Obviously he didn’t take kindly to that. He was threatening me about some termination, some stuff like that if I ever let Molly down, if I broke her heart etc.

He talked about a lot of things and I think Sherlock enjoyed the scene a lot because I could see the edges of his lips tugging upwards as he tried to contain his laughter.

Honestly, when I look at him, I wonder why the hell they broke up in the first place when they clearly, _clearly_ love and care for each other.

So, I did the unthinkable.

I punched him.

In his face.

He looked royally offended and shocked.

And I was very pleased. Sherlock was as well, because he collapsed to the floor in laughter.

I threw Molly’s ring at Sherlock. The ring bounced off him and landed on the floor with a soft, metallic clink. And Sherlock’s brother’s eyes drifted to it and I bet he recognized it.

I told him that I broke it off and he looked ready to pounce on me and tackle me to the ground. So I had to speak quickly because the marriage would be a disaster and the only person who could ever make her happy was him.

I should have given up trying a long while ago when I had seen her smile at nothing in particular and then frowned, or looked as if she was going to cry. I should have accepted the fact that I wasn’t right for her in the first place when she looked forlornly out of the window whenever she thinks that I am not looking.

No one makes her happier and more alive than him.

And they had been playing catching.

He looked shocked when I reveal all these to him. He didn’t speak after that.

So I did all the talking.

I told him, if he still loves her, then he have to show it, he got to prioritize things. If he is emotionally challenged … which I suspect that he is, I don’t know how else to help. He need to show that he cares enough to even want to be there, that there is a place in his future for her.

I don’t know how much he heard and thought was good advice because his face was just a blank slate. Wished I punched him harder.

* * *

 

 

_25 December 2014_

I got a Christmas present, but it’s not one I was expecting.

It’s a wedding invitation card.

* * *

 

 

_27 April 2015_

I attended the wedding and it was a bittersweet thing. She looked happier than I could ever recall. Her eyes were sparkling with joy and the way she looked at him, that soft expression… I don’t think I have ever seen it when she was with me.

That’s an expression that is reserved only for him.

Am I jealous? Yes.

Does it bother me? …. I wish I could say no.

I sat next to this brunette who was frantically typing on her blackberry. She didn’t make conversation or anything throughout the wedding. Her eyes were fixed on her phone and the only time she tore her eyes away from the phone was when they were exchanging rings.

I thought I saw her expression changed. But maybe I didn’t.

We didn’t talk at all but I think that at the wedding, there was more than one broken heart.

So I just lifted my glass and clinked hers.

She obviously didn’t expect it because she finally looked at me.

“To them.” She said, then she clinked her glass lightly against mine.

“To them,” I repeated as I glanced over to Molly. There she was, happily in the arms of her beloved, looking contented and filled with such happiness. Which is the way it should be, the way it should always be.

I smiled when she looked over.

A chapter has ended, and another is just beginning.


End file.
